E. HowelBeginnings of a ScribeThe standing stones were painted, and a small firebowl was lit in the center. She sat before the flame with a cigarette in her mouth, wind…Jan 11, 2023Jan 11, 2023
E. HowelPouring in December — Flash FictionMy apartment could be pleasant during the daylight hours, if it was tidy, with the morning sun shining in to cast bright pools of light on…Dec 29, 2022Dec 29, 2022
E. Howel9/21On the twenty-third of October, 2093, his friends and gf left him. His hair, which had previously been a mop of unkempt locks, now became…Sep 22, 2022Sep 22, 2022
E. HowelIn PlaceI have dreams. Primordial dreams that rest in the early recesses of my consciousness. I don’t know if they’ll ever fade (I fear getting…Aug 7, 2022Aug 7, 2022
E. HowelCar CountersCars marched forward in rank at the pace of an army on foot. Rows and rows of them covered every one of the Pan Transway’s ten lanes, each…Aug 5, 2022Aug 5, 2022
E. HowelMorning HazeAbove the central mountains which divide the Eastland from the Westland, high up amid the floating islands of the stories — yes, they are…Aug 4, 2022Aug 4, 2022